Winter Peaches
by MadTrout
Summary: After a night of drunken tomfoolery, Sansa escorts her roommate Margaery back to their appartment. Her best friend can be a real pain when she is drunk.


The liquor on Margaery's breath was that of peach schnapps, and it fanned across Sansa's lips when Margaery stumbled into Sansa's ready arms. Throwing her head back, Margaery laughed raucously into the night and smiled at her companion. There was a dangerous light in the eldest girl's eyes behind the haze of alcohol.

"Whoops!" Margaery slurred, giggling and stopping in the middle of the crosswalk to take off her heels. "Next time, Sansa, darling," she paused to laugh or hiccup. Sansa couldn't tell. "Next time, remind me to wear shorter heels." She gave a hop when her feet touched the freezing street and collided into Sansa

Cars honked and Margaery's peach breath billowed out in cloud of steam like a dragon when she shouted, "You've got a problem? Fuck off, I'll walk as slow as I like!"

The tips of Sansa's ears blended into her hair at Margaery's comment. "Margaery, stop!" The redhead bent down and collected Margaery's heels, pulling her the rest of the way across the street.

When she stopped on the sidewalk, Margaery slammed into her chest and purred. "Sansa…" Her voice was lost in the wool of Sansa's white sweater, but Sansa shivered as the warmth of her name escaped Margaery's mouth and skated across her chest.

"What?" Her voice shook like a leaf in the wind.

"D'you know why," she hung on the word, looking up finally to meet Sansa's eyes. With her brown eyes narrowed and her fingers curling like a vice in the lapels of Sansa's coat, Margaery had captured her and was loathe to allow Sansa Stark to escape.

"D'you know why I love peach schnapps?" Her bare foot kicked away Sansa's instep and she shuffled closer, huffing once more onto her lips.

Words dammed themselves at the back of Sansa's throat and her heart worked overtime to release them. Sansa swallowed, flicking her eyes between Margaery's unwavering gaze.

She shook her head.

"Because," the elder girl sang, "It reminds me of your perfume. I love that perfume. It makes you smell so _tasty._" Holding her gaze, Margaery pressed her lips to the skin exposed by the vee dipping at the redhead's collarbone. "So _sweet_. So _edible_."

Locked in an embrace the way they were, Sansa could feel the tremors of Margaery's voice as she purred them, forming the words eloquently despite the obstacle of her skin. Placing a hand on Margaery's shoulder, Sansa pushed against her softly. "Marg, you're drunk. I should get you home before…" She trailed off.

Margaery was in more control than Sansa initially thought because she pulled Sansa's free arm around her hips and stepped closer. Her body was a furnace compared to the Westerosi winter surrounding them. Goosebumps crept up Sansa's spine.

"I wonder if you would be opposed if I ate you, Sansa. You do know how I savor my peaches." Her teeth nipped softly at Sansa's neck, and Sansa felt those lips curl into that familiar smirk as they suckled her neck.

"Margaery…"

Said girl pulled away, her glazed eyes now sober and wanting while they held Sansa in their petrifying stare. Stepping back, she grabbed Sansa's and yanked her in the direction of their apartment a few blocks away.

Boots scuffing the ground, Sansa rushed to keep up with lithe Margaery. "I-I don't understand. I thought you were…" Flushing the color of her hair, Sansa's stuttering voice fell away out of fear of offending her… Margaery.

They stopped suddenly and Margaery spun, smiling at Sansa when she purred, "Some women like _pretty girls._"

For a moment, she stayed locked in Margaery's sights. Margaery raised one eyebrow. Sansa's mouth fell.

"Oh."

For the umpteenth time that evening, Sansa's personal space was besieged by Margaery who stood on her toes to raise her lips to Sansa's ear. Her hand cupped Sansa's crotch and pulled her close.

Sansa's breath hitched when Margaery's lips moved against her ear.

"Quit playing games and let me eat your cunt, Sansa Stark."


End file.
